


your songs remind me of swimming

by msbrokenbrightside



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Learning to Fly, Lucifer's Fall, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msbrokenbrightside/pseuds/msbrokenbrightside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If I gave you the world would you use the sky to teach me to fly again?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	your songs remind me of swimming

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so sorry that this pinchhitter took so long. For hobovampire, prompt was, in essence, learning to fly again after being broken. Or at least I hope that’s what you wanted dgajksl Also a million thanks to Anne for beta-ing and being ridiculously helpful with this fic ohmygod. hh
> 
> Recommended Listening: Swimming – Florence and The Machine

“If I gave you the world would you use the sky to teach me to fly again?”

At times Lucifer will say things like that and Sam will forget to not answer him.

“You forgot how to fly?” Sam asks, confused. He stares at Lucifer in disbelief, it can’t be true. But the angel’s face isn’t mocking. He’s serious.

 “How does,” Sam swallows, nervous under Lucifer’s gaze, “How does that even happen?”

Lucifer’s smile is sad and Sam refuses to believe it but his heart still does.

“Michael broke my wings before throwing me into the cage. When the cage closed the seals bound me and I couldn’t heal them. I had to sever them, or else risk going through even more torture,” Lucifer informs calmly for something that sounds painful both physically and emotionally, “After you released me and the seals fell away I was able to heal them. But they were cut away from me for so long that they’re practically brand new, I no longer know how to fly.”

Lucifer’s not telling him everything, Sam knows. Lucifer may not lie but he doesn’t tell the whole truth either. There’s something he’s keeping from Sam.

Nonetheless Sam continues the conversation.

“And you think I could teach you how to fly? I’m not an angel”

Lucifer smirks from knowing something Sam doesn’t, but he looks at Sam with so much faith that Sam’s almost afraid.

“I’m sure you’d find some way.”

 

-{:}-

 

Dean tells Sam that he’s going to go out and drink, asking if he wants to join him but Sam’s so exhausted from today’s poltergeist hunt, he just wants to collapse onto the bed.

Which he does after entering their motel room.

Sam lays there for a while, feeling each bruise gotten from when he was slammed against the wall during the hunt. Despite the urge he has to sleep, he isn’t able to. He’s about to grab some more painkillers when suddenly Sam feels a tug. A pull towards something far away. He doesn’t understand and suddenly the tug is stronger, ridiculously so. Sam’s never felt anything so powerful in his life.

He doesn’t pass out, or at least, it doesn’t feel like he’s passed out. Everything feels too real; it almost feels sharper than before. But Sam knows he’s no longer in the motel room, at least not mentally.

The first thing Sam notices is that he feels impossibly big and impossibly small at the same time.

He can’t tell where he is either--until he sees a streak of light among the black and dark grey. Then he realizes that he’s suspended in the middle of a maelstrom.

The next thing he notices is that he’s speaking. Or, the person whose body he inhabits is speaking. To whom, Sam doesn’t know. But in front of him there’s a blur among the dark clouds. As if something is there, but Sam can’t see it. Even in his dreams.

The conversation isn’t going well. The emotions running through Sam’s body are intense. Anger, sadness, slowly dwindling hope. There’s also a bit of fear as the storm gets worse around them.

Blurs pass through the clouds; circling, watching. Sam knows there must be hundreds, he’s speaking so loudly to them. He looks among them before going back to the first blur. Asking a question.

It feels likes centuries. All of the nervous tension in him builds it up. When it finally seems as if he’s going to get an answer a spark of hope fills him. Fueled and supported by love.

The words cut like a blade.

It’s crushingly painful to hear them. Sam’s reminded of his detox in Bobby’s panic room--of a face looking down at him, eyes full of hate as the mouth spits poison.

The words are deafening; even the thunder around them is only a murmur to what’s being said by the blur.

He looks down at the earth, everything so small and simple. It doesn’t scare him.

Not until he’s falling.

It’s so sudden that he doesn’t know what happened.

He was floating and now he’s falling through the sky. Falling down to the ground.

If this were a normal body his chest would feel tight, as if an impossible weight was pressing down against his chest. He can’t breathe, he’s going so fast, he wants to shut his eyes in fear but he can’t.

It doesn’t make sense. He was only asking questions. He was only speaking his mind. And now the clouds are rushing past him. The ground’s rushing towards him. Fear strikes him like lightning. He tries to stop and can’t. What was he doing wrong? He didn’t mean for this to happen. He never meant to make Father angry. He never meant to hurt his family. He never meant to fall. The trees and dirt and stone start to become clear. Everything starts to become clear.

He’s not going to stop.

Sam ‘wakes’ covered in cold sweat, staring up at the ceiling, still in his clothes.   

 

-{:}-

 

The town ghost turned out to be a bust.

Dean grumbled something about checking the police records just to be sure that the town was one hundred percent un-huntable before dropping Sam off at the library to look for a new hunt in the state but Sam knows that Dean probably just wanted to drive around alone.

Sam doesn’t blame him, they’ve been cramped in the car together for so long trying to get here that he needs the space too. Especially after the case they were on turned out to be a bunch of kids messing around. Hopefully while Dean’s driving he’ll find a motel for the night.

The library isn’t busy but there are a few people littered about. Kids with their grandparents, teenagers, bored adults, it’s a normal Saturday afternoon in a public library.

Sam settles down and starts a search for strange homicides within the last two months.

When he finally gives up hope for finding anything good enough the sun is setting. He closes the window he has open, about to call Dean when he gets an urge. An idea that once it passes his mind he can’t shake.

A library aide passes by as Sam worries his lip, weighing the odds of if this is too bad of an idea. It can’t hurt to look, no one’s going to know. He’s just morbidly curious.

Sam opens the browser back up and types the words in the search bar.

After seeing only the first few images Sam can tell that none of them are going to get it right. No image could capture the fear.

The vision he had of Lucifer’s fall still haunts him. The fact that Sam knows it wasn’t a dream haunts him even more; it was too strong to be just a dream. It only supports Lucifer’s claim that they’re connected even more.

But it’s also frightening because something must have caused the pull; something must have happened to bring back those memories so strongly that even Sam witnessed them. He glances at the images again.

They all paint the earth beautifully. Which, in retrospect, Lucifer would probably appreciate despite everything. It only makes Sam frown in bewilderment.

He just doesn’t know how anyone could think the earth is beautiful after falling towards it like that.

After a few more searches, each provoking the same thoughts, his phone vibrates and Sam takes it out to look at the message.

                ‘D: Ready?’

Sam takes one last look at the images before texting him back. Closing everything out and shutting the computer down. As he pushes his chair in he fleetingly remembers the last dream he had with Lucifer.

‘I’m sure you’d find some way.’

It sounded like a throwaway line. A try at buttering Sam up into saying the big yes. But the way Lucifer looked at him, the brightness filling those usually dark eyes. Sam understood then that Lucifer really was the light-bringer. His eyes filled with that light. And they were bright because the angel believed…

Sam’s jaw stiffens and he stares at the floor, ignoring the tightening in his chest.

Eventually he grabs his bag and heads outside to wait for Dean.

 

-{:}-

 

“Clear skies for this week in the area- / Not one but three ne- / Sí Señor, No es- / I love you, you fo-”

Sam doesn’t know why Dean’s bothering with trying to find something on the TV. He could be getting dinner or better yet helping Sam find a new hunt but instead he continues to flip through the channels.

It’s not until they hear a familiar flap of wings that Dean stops. Sam looks up from the laptop to see Castiel standing between the two beds.

The angel had called them as they were pulling in to the motel parking lot earlier that day, asking for the name of the place and telling them that he would be there some time later to check in. After a few bad run-ins with angels and demons alike for all three of them they all decided it was better to check in more often. 

Castiel looked them over both for wounds, possibly trying to be subtle about it but Castiel wasn’t very good at subtle. When he’s done Castiel steps on a landmine of a question, “How goes finding a way to stop the apocalypse?”

The room feels as if it actually drops in temperature and darkens as if the lights were dimmed to fit the mood. Dean jaw tenses up and he gets off the bed. Walking to his jacket that’s over one of the chairs in the corner of the room, “How do you think, Cas?”

It wasn’t going well.

As Dean pulls his jacket on, Cas answers and Sam’s not sure if the angel was going for sarcasm or if he’s just answering honestly, “Seeing as the apocalypse is still raging on I would presume that it’s not going well.”

Sam can’t see Dean’s face but he stops searching for hunts on the computer. Afraid that he’s going to have to toss it aside and get between the two of them. They’re all exhausted from the stress and the constant dread, Sam thinks, hopefully Dean will just brush it off. But when Dean turns it’s not anger on his face.

It’s something worse.

“Yeah and uh,” Dean starts, eyes cruel (but still tired) and mouth curling into a smirk, “How’s the search for Dad? Have you found him yet?”

Castiel doesn’t frown or flinch but his eyes darken, “No.”

Dean raises his eyebrows and nods his head, letting out a ‘hmmm’ sound before saying sarcastically, “Isn’t that surprising.” He ambles to the exit and calling out that he’s going to get food before shutting the door.

Castiel glares at Dean’s back as he leaves but doesn’t say anything. He’s about to leave, Sam knows, so he asks quickly, “Cas, could you wait up a sec? I need to ask you with something.”

Ever since the library Sam’s been curious.

Luckily Dean hasn’t frustrated the angel enough for him to feign not hearing Sam. Castiel turns to him and nods, “What is it that you need to ask me, Sam?”

Sam licks his lips, looking up at Castiel and trying to choose his words right.

“How did you… how do angels learn to fly?”

To Sam’s surprise Castiel smiles slightly, sitting down on the bed opposite Sam.

“It’s actually fairly simple; we’re made with the knowledge of how to use our wings. It’s more a matter of faith,” Castiel starts, “When you have faith you’re at peace, which is essential for flying for the first time. After that it’s second nature, even if you’re afraid you can still fly as long as you’ve flown without fear once.”

Sam blinks.

“Oh,” he says stupidly, before shaking his head, “I mean… thanks, Cas.”

That explains it.

Castiel nods, standing up, “Is that all you wanted to know?”

Sam looks up at him and shakes his head again, “No, no that’s it.”

That’s it. Wait.

“I think you’ll find Him, Cas,” Sam adds quickly, trying to make up for Dean’s anger.

“Please don’t lie for my sake, Sam,” Castiel tells him shortly, “You have a lot of faith but not that much.” And with a nod, the angel disappears to leave Sam alone in the motel room.

In his mind, Sam wonders if Castiel’s remark would change if he knew why Sam asked the question.

 

-{:}-

 

Sam ‘wakes’ to find Lucifer sitting on the edge of his bed.

This time Sam is still in the clothes he had from earlier in the day and he’s not under the sheets. He sits up, watching as Lucifer’s eyes travel from Sam’s chest (where a still-healing broken rib doesn’t ache) to meet the hunter’s eyes.

“Hello Sam, It’s been awhile.”

Despite the cool tone and passive expression Sam can tell that there’s something underneath. A question Lucifer wants to ask that isn’t about saying yes.

Sam has a hunch as to what it is.

 “I saw you,” Sam licks his lips nervously, “I saw you fall.”

Lucifer’s face doesn’t change but Sam knows he’s guessed right.

“I know it wasn’t a dream, I know that it was really you. Why did… what happened?”

The angel pauses, staring at Sam with an unreadable expression. Debating  if he should tell his vessel what come about to cause those memories to resurface so strongly.

“Michael.”

The answer doesn’t surprise Sam although he does feel for the angel. Lucifer’s tone was even but there was something sad in the way he said his brother’s name.

Sam doesn’t ask but he does wonder if the meeting was violent or not. If this weren’t a dream Sam could tell from the severity of the burns on Lucifer’s face but like all of his previous dreams, Lucifer’s face is clear of them. It’s unsettling though. If Michael came to attack Lucifer does that mean that he doesn’t care about Dean saying yes anymore? Does this mean that it no longer matters how long they hold out, the big fight will happen anyway?

For a second the fear of falling is back. Since the incident Sam’s had bouts of recollections throughout the week. They’re terrifying. One minute he’s fine and the next it’s as if the whole world disappears around him and there’s nothing to hold onto. Nothing happens though, in these moments Sam doesn’t fall but the possibility of it has him holding his breath until the room returns.

It’s worse this time around; probably because Lucifer is so close to him. After the fear passes, their eyes meet again. Lucifer’s expression is still the same but there’s an apology in his eyes, as if he knows it was worse because of his presence.

Sam looks away.

The curtain blocks the view outside but the light coming through the cheap material tells him its day. Sam supposes he could change it if he wanted to anyway, this being his dream and all.

It’s either now or never, Sam doesn’t know if he’ll get another chance.

Sam moves off the bed and walks past the window to the door, expecting Lucifer to follow him as he opens it and steps outside.

At first the sunlight blinds him, he moves a hand to cover his face until his eyes adjust, stepping out onto the porch.

The space is wide and open. Fields of wheat on each side of a dirt road Sam thinks he remembers from breaking down once. It’s not completely free of human interference. There’s a large power line running across the road and fields but it’s the best Sam could manage. The sky is blue with big white puffy clouds, picturesque. So Sam thinks he’s at least done a good job with that.

He walks further away from the door.

He can’t believe he’s doing this. But at the same time, he can.

All his life Sam’s thought of himself as different. People have always looked at him funny and even hatefully. He’s been hunted for what he is and for what he’s done, ostracized and locked up. And if they don’t do any of that, then they’re lying because they want to use him.

Lucifer does want to use him, he does want to take Sam as a vessel and take back the earth, but he hasn’t lied to Sam. He doesn’t say anything without meaning it. And Sam knows this because when Lucifer looks at him he doesn’t see a monster or a freak and there’s not a trace of a lie. Lucifer looks at him with so much faith in his eyes sometimes that it chokes Sam’s throat up. As if Sam’s worthy of all of heaven’s praises. As if he’s a savior. Which, maybe for Lucifer, is technically true.

When Sam’s out far enough on the road he turns to see that Lucifer did follow him.  

He takes a deep breath as Lucifer looks at him calmly, Sam doesn’t know if the angel has figured it out yet but he goes ahead anyway.

“Take out your wings,” he says softly, making sure it doesn’t sound like a command.

There’s a pause. Lucifer gives him strange look, amused at first but then it changes into something almost happy.  There’s a light breeze that blows through the fields and even though he can’t see them Sam knows Lucifer’s done what he’s asked.

Sam takes one more breath.

“Castiel told me that an angel had to be completely at peace for their first time,” Sam says, feeling awkward as he tells Lucifer something the archangel already knows. He swallows and presses on.

“You can’t get that in the real world, but you can here. I can give you that.”

There’s a few seconds where Lucifer just stares at him. Amusement gone from his face and leaving a guarding expression. Sam thinks he may have done something wrong. Maybe he’s read everything wrong but then Lucifer smiles. A tiny twitch at the corner of his lips that grow and lightens up Lucifer’s eyes so much that makes Sam’s chest tightens more for than any of the sad smiles Lucifer has given him. Sam feels himself straightening his back to accommodate for the ache.

A moment passes and then Lucifer is gone suddenly. Another stronger breeze blowing the wheat fields and Sam’s hair. Sam blinks before looking around, eventually thinking and looking up at the sky.

He can’t see anything at first but then he spots clouds moving too fast. Thinning out as they follow something moving among them.

Sam stares at the sight, caught up in the way the clouds mesh together and change shape.

He must have stood there watching for a long time because eventually his legs and neck start to hurt. He turns back to the building and sees a bench on the porch.

Before he’s able to walk over and sit down though there’s a boom of thunder and Sam turns to the sky frightened.  He assumes something is wrong, watching worriedly until he feels rain drops start to fall.  Their coolness feeling nice against his hot skin, warmed up from the sun. Then he knows that this storm is Lucifer’s doing.

The clouds get darker and darker but they’re still beautiful. Twisting and turning into each other. A streak of blinding lightning going between them. Soon it starts to pour but Sam still stands out in the open. Letting the rain soak him until he feels cool before going under the porch and sitting on the bench.

The thunder almost sounds like laughter, Sam thinks as he watches from the porch. A few more lightning strikes, still excessively bright, before Sam starts to drift off to the thunder following them. Eventually falling asleep as the storm keeps going.

 

-{:}-

 

When they leave the hotel the next day, the wind is almost blowing people off the sidewalks. Dean heads over to the front desk to hand in their key, muttering a curse as another strong gust blows through.  

Sam gets to the car easily enough considering. It hasn’t started to rain yet but when it starts Sam knows it will pour. He’s about to open the door when something brushes across the palm of his hand. Sparks shudder up is whole body, feeling every nerve inside him light up. Sam grabs the object before it blows away in the storm only to gape at it before turning to look back at the maelstrom.

The clouds turning into each other, flashing lightning illuminating the clouds, thunder that seems to shake the ground.  It’s almost indescribable. Dark and menacing but it’s undeniably beautiful in the way impending doom is. Contrasting intensely against the sky it hasn’t taken yet.

Sam continues to stare at the storm, awestruck, clutching the feather in his hand tightly.


End file.
